Betty held her breath, then poured a liberal amount of the grease into her palm. ‘Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…’ Closing her eyes, Betty cupped he... slippery hand against the exposed crack of her bottom, but hesitated a moment. ‘Wait, Eugenia…how do I do this?’ she asked on her knees. ‘Real simple. Remember when we used to finger paint together?’ Betty grimaced. ‘Uh. Y-yes…’ ‘It’s like finger painting, only the canvas is the inside of your shitty arsehole. Now pop a finger or two up there and. He turned away from where Brynn had gone and rushed to the cockpit. Brynn poked her head out and watched him moving away from her. She started after him, following the corridor around, and then saw the door to the cockpit close in front of her face. Her jaw dropped and she huffed. ‘Well, fine then.’ She turned and walked back to the galley, sitting at the table again. Ophelia met Brynn in the galley, standing on the table and looking at her. ‘Good evening, Mistress. Can I help you get something. More

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